


Chain Reactions

by fractalanatomy



Series: Corporate Takeover [4]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Anal Sex, D/s, Discipline, Domination, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, M/M, Masochism, Oral Sex, Punishment, Sadism, Spanking, Submission, Threesome, boot licking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 10:12:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2618087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractalanatomy/pseuds/fractalanatomy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Turps' carelessness leads to a major accident at the dirt factory, prompting Sips and Xephos to employ corrective measures. Thankfully the SipsCo company manual has protocol to follow for these kinds of events.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chain Reactions

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [tumblr](http://saltyghost.tumblr.com) now! I don't post, but you can use it to talk to me if you want. 
> 
> Anyway, this turned out way longer than I expected. Enjoy!

It was no secret that Turps was a bit lacking in the focus department, and so it should come as no surprise that this sort of thing would happen to him. Sips and Xephos had thought it odd that their usually ravenous coworker would decline an invitation to a big lunch spread over at Sjin's farm, but Turps had been feeling rather industrious lately and, wanting to prove his usefulness to his bosses, felt he could get some good work on the show room done while the other two men were off socializing. They should have known better than to leave Turps to his own devices on the Sipsco compound, but some lessons must indeed be learned the hard way.

The sun of high noon beat mercilessly down upon the lone singer-turned-labourer's back as he undertook his chore, stacking heavy blocks in their proper places and carefully chiseling out their designs. It was a menial task, hard labour for sure, but Turps was an optimist and reasoned that at least he was getting his exercise. He kept himself amused by belting out lyrics to the different songs passing through his head, often mangling them and creating his own versions for all of the monsters slogging through the mud to hear. 

Even if he hadn't been putting his heart and soul into singing while he handled his construction job, he would have worked up quite a sweat in the stinking, muggy air of the mud flats. Seeking relief, and without much thought, he removed his heavy armour and peeled the sticky shirt from his back, wrinkling his nose in disgust as moisture dripped from the soiled fabric onto the ground. He had been alone for at least an hour, he figured, and he had surely earned a short break from the heat; whistling to himself, he trotted back into the main SipsCo building to shield his reddening skin from the sun for awhile. If nothing else this job was keeping him nicely toned and tanned, his muscles becoming clearly defined as hours of hard work burned away the last layers of fat from his body.

There was no reprieve from the heat, however: the air in the factory was nearly as thick as the dirt it produced. Panting, Turps knew his best shot at cooling down would be to get the air circulating in the stuffy building, and so went about throwing open every window and door to the outside, dancing across the factory floor and singing to himself with all the confidence that having no audience brings. He could already feel a nice cross-breeze sweep along from the front to the back door and it made the sweat dripping down his brow and back begin to dry, lowering his temperature in a matter of minutes. 

With his comfort level rising, it was only a brief moment before his curiosity got the better of him, as it tended to do, and he figured he could poke around in Sips' upstairs office without being caught-- and if he was, well, the windows up there needed to be opened too, didn't they? It was a flawless plan. 

Taking a moment to admire the lifelike statues of his serious-browed boss guarding the stairs, Turps jogged up and into the office, still whistling as he opened the windows to get the air flowing, then stood in the middle of the room with his arms on his hips to consider his options. Some especially lewd happenings took place in here on a regular basis, he knew, having stumbled upon such things once or twice in the past, and while part of him wished to forget all about it, the rest of him desperately wanted the chance to join in on the fun someday. In fact he felt a bit hurt at being routinely left out; what did they think was wrong with him, anyway? He wasn't the best at following directions, of course, and he could be a bit hyperactive, but he ultimately wanted to please others, didn't he?

Feeling a bit put off by his train of thought, Turps strode over to the furniture by the wall and sat down in Sips' plush leather chair, putting his feet up on the stylish mahogany desk for a moment. He knew his boss kept some less than professional items in those desk drawers, but as he poked around in each he raised his brows with great interest, certainly not expecting to find what he had. It would make for a fun night, he mused: a half-empty bottle of lube, an awkward-looking rainbow pen, several issues of a monthly porno magazine ( _Gigantic Asses_ , he noted with a grin), and a handful of YogDonald's coupons. Really? Not even a single piece of paper? Turps chuckled to himself while thumbing through one of the well-worn magazines, but a muted shuffling of feet from downstairs caught him by surprise and he jumped out of the office chair, scrambling to replace everything in Sips' drawers before he could be found out.

With everything back in its proper place, Turps whistled at a job well done and jogged back down the stairs to greet his coworkers in the adjacent room, the soft footsteps seeming to have come from over by the sorting machines where myriad pipes and conveyor belts transported the lifeblood of the factory in a confusingly delicate mess.

"Hi fellas, you're back! Did you have a good lunch? I tell you, I've been as busy as a bee on crack around here, and I think you'll--"

He stopped, having turned the corner, and his mouth hung open with shock as he was greeted by two stray creepers weaving in and around the machinery with feral curiosity and not a care in the world. Both of the explosive creatures turned their heads to stare at him with their dark, hollow eyes as if on cue, and took a second to observe the fleshy pink creature talking to them before making their move.

"Um, you know what," Turps stammered as he backpedaled, hands up in defeat, "you guys keep doing what you're doing, and I'm just gonna...go...back this way. Right."

It may very well have worked to pacify the monsters, but a sudden hissing from behind like the sizzling fuse on a stick of dynamite stopped him in his tracks, and his eyes shot wide open with fear. Of course, it was he who had opened all of the doors to the building to get the air circulating, allowing this third creeper to sneak in from the front entrance, and it was he who had removed his heavy armour and weapons and left them in a pile a hundred feet away. There was no doubt to whom the blame would fall for this.

The two curious creepers on the factory floor began hissing in reply to their comrade, and in a blind state of panic Turps dove behind a protective wall of barrels to shield himself from the impending blast-- the loudest _BOOM_ he had ever heard rocked and shook the entire building as the creatures detonated at precisely the same time, and all that his ears could register now was a piercing ring bouncing between his eardrums. Shrapnel and bits of items blown apart had been sent flying all through the factory in the biggest mess he had ever seen, though he had yet to survey the real damage as he stayed crouched behind the remains of item barrels for a few good seconds, letting debris and bits of metal land a safe distance away all around his hiding spot.

The air having more or less settled and left everything in the room with a fine beige coat of dust, Turps blinked a few times in disbelief and stood slowly, brushing himself off. The back wall was practically destroyed, leaving an enormous crumbling hole wide open to the outside, and pieces of wood and saplings were being tossed one by one into a haphazard pile on the floor as the conveyor belt that ferried them in had been ripped to shreds like lace in a hurricane. Only a handful of barrels were still intact, the rest having burst upon impact with all of their contents now spilled onto the floor. To top it all off, the miles of pipes and rows of complicated machinery that had filled the room were now reduced to scattered piles of shrapnel all over the place, some sharp pieces of metal even staying stuck in the wall like makeshift darts.

"Oh _piss_ ," Turps whispered with disbelief while taking a step forward, wincing at the crunch that followed as a lone little sapling was crushed beneath his boot.

That was it, then; he was dead when the others came back. He was so dead. 

Adrenaline shot through the labourer as his mind whizzed at a hundred miles an hour, trying to figure out how to fix this incredible mess, though came up unbearably short. Talking out loud to try and reassure himself, Turps scooted around the room in a buzzing fury, frantically scooping up bits of scrap metal and trying in vain to piece them back together with the bizarre engineering logic that only he himself could defend. Turps hardly knew how long he was at this futile task before the sound of sprinting feet crossed his ears, and his stomach bottomed out, landing somewhere around his ankles.

The click of boot heels came to a halt at the wide open front door, and he glanced over just in time to see Xephos looking around with his mouth agape, dropping the bagged lunch in his hand to the floor with absolute shock.

"Turps! What...but...how?! _TURPS._ "

Cold fear ate at the labourer's gut and hardly a squeak came from his mouth in reply, much less an explanation that would satisfy the enraged spaceman in the doorway. A mild relief passed over him as Sips came trotting up beside Xephos a moment later, puffing and red-faced from the jog on a full stomach, and though the businessman too seemed at a loss for words at the sheer carnage before him, after a frightening moment of silence he then burst out laughing, his companions turning to stare as if he had suddenly gone mad.

"Turps, what the fuck! What happened?!" Sips asked, amused but hardly dismissive, straightening back up to wipe a tear from his eye.

"It was the creepers," Turps replied loudly, suddenly finding his voice. The labourer's hands motioned recklessly around him as he tried to convey the absurdity of it all. "It was the creepers, I swear to god! They just, they came in out of nowhere, and then one snuck up on me! It's not my fault, honest!"

Eyes still wide, Xephos clawed at his prominent cheekbones in clear emotional turmoil, every new detail of the destruction fueling the fire of his rage. An odd noise came from the back of his throat, a strangled mixture of a whine and a growl, and, fearing he might explode at any moment, Sips rested a hand against the thin man's back, giving him a reassuring pat. 

"You opened every door and let a bunch of creepers into the factory for what, a party? What the hell were you thinking, you crazy son of a bitch," Sips asked, completely dumbfounded.

"I didn't just _let_ them in, you know!"

"How did they get in, then? Magic? Ghosts?! _Jeeesus!_ " 

"I-I don't know! They must've learned how to open doors with their...with their mouths, look, that's not the point! It was their fault, not mine," Turps shouted insistently, his tone high and his voice cracking under the weight of his lie.

Trembling with rage, Xephos strode around the room with his hands upon his head, moaning in dismay. "Oh god, my machines! My beautiful machines! Hours and hours of work, _ruined!_ You're so careless, Turps-- how _could_ you?!"

A pang of guilt shot through the labourer's heart, knowing full well he was to blame for this devastating accident. "I-I'm sorry," he whined, "I'm really sorry! Look, it'll be fine! I'll help you rebuild all this stuff, okay?"

"No you won't, Turps, you'll just fuck it all up," Xephos shot back, venom dripping from his voice. "You're so useless! You are literally _the worst_."

Frowning, Sips stepped forward to Turps' side, sliding an arm around the fit man's bare waist. "Hey, come on, he may be useless but he's still our pal. He didn't mean to blow up the factory, right?" Turps nodded enthusiastically at that, and Sips tilted his head to address him. "Shit happens, we'll fix it. You're just gonna have to be punished, that's all."

Turps grimaced, meeting his boss' intense gaze. "But, b-but that's not fair! It was an accident, like you said!"

"Well yeah, sure, but you gotta learn not to be so careless, buster," Sips said with a certain fondness. "Get it through that thick skull of yours."

Lips curled in a small snarl, Xephos locked eyes with the cowering labourer and stalked over to poke him accusingly in the shoulder. "This is going to take days for me to fix, you know, maybe even weeks. I want you properly punished," he said in a dangerous voice, "and I want you to show me how sorry you are for fucking it all up. Make him show me," he said to Sips, prompting a wicked grin from the stout man.

"Now, I like the way you think, but one thing at a time," Sips said in a sly tone. "As CEO of this fine body corporate and Director of Compliance, I think we should do this by the book. Turps, take your pants off."

Turps' mouth shot open and after a moment of stunned silence, a squeak of resistance emerged. "I will not," he said incredulously, though some of his bravado was lost as he caught Xephos' furious glare from the corner of his eye.

"Come on, Turps, you're just making this harder on yourself," Sips said with a grand sigh, slipping away and plopping himself down to create a chair out of a partially-destroyed machine. "Take your pants off, already. And that stupid headband, too; you look like an aerobics instructor, for Christ's sake."

Wordlessly opening and closing his mouth a few times like a fish gasping for water, Turps finally gave in and unzipped his pants, letting them drop in a heap at his feet, then mournfully untied his beloved purple headband without a word.

"Those too," Sips said flatly, gesturing toward the toned man's tighty whities. 

"Awww, come on, this is ridiculous! Can't you just write me up?" Turps asked with a groan, though did as he was told and took off his underpants without any more fuss. Hands on his naked hips, he sighed, trying to avoid Xephos' gaze. "Happy now?"

The wicked grin spread across Sips' lips while he greedily took in the sight of the other man's bare body, each ripple of muscle and curve now at his disposal, just waiting to be inspected. "Not yet, but I will be soon enough, I bet. Come here and assume the position, Turps."

The labourer let out another mangled groan; he had read the company manual, of course, but he had never expected to wind up being disciplined in this manner. How was spanking even legal anymore?

"HR should be notified of this barbaric practice," Turps grumbled matter-of-factly, blushing, then let out a pained gasp as he was sharply poked in the kidney from behind.

"I _am_ HR," Xephos said sternly.

"There there, Turps...shut up and c'mere," Sips said, snickering as he patted his lap indicatively. "Come to Daddy."

Trying to ignore the spreading blush in his cheeks and the rising tingle in his groin, the toned man obeyed, albeit slowly, settling his chest and belly over his boss' thighs ever so carefully. With an unsatisfied huff, Sips then grabbed him by his narrow waist and dragged him further across his lap, letting the other man's top half dangle like a rag doll with his ass up in the air. Turps immediately squawked and grabbed hold of Sips' leg for support to keep from toppling face-first onto the concrete floor; this was the most humiliated and vulnerable he had ever felt, completely naked and at the mercy of his boss, who was now giving one of his bare buttcheeks a testing squeeze for firmness and contemplating it as one would a ripe piece of fruit.

Without warning, one of Sips' square hands came down with great force and landed a piercing _crack!_ against his victim's backside, the golden rings on his fingers stinging like bees. Turps let out a loud cry and blinked the beginnings of tears from his eyes, very much taken aback by how badly that first strike had hurt. He squirmed in Sips' lap, receiving swat number two, then three, each as hard and painful as the first, and his core muscles began trembling uncontrollably, fighting to take in breaths. 

Noticing his employee was struggling to cope with his style of punishment, Sips stopped briefly to drag his short nails as talons along the reddening flesh of Turps' ass, eliciting a very unmanly squeal.

"Ahh, the sweet sound of justice," Sips mused, running a hand up the length of Turps' spine to rest reassuringly at the nape of his neck. "You should get in on this, Xeph; you like some good disciplinary action once in awhile, don't you?"

Xephos looked away at that cheeky jab, momentarily overcome with embarrassment but thankful that Sips at least hadn't mentioned how the spaceman was normally on the receiving end. Xephos approached the pair with some trepidation and raised his hand, holding it up for what seemed like a lifetime before giving Turps a half-hearted swat, which the naked man met with more of an annoyed grunt than anything else. Xephos frowned, making to withdraw his hand, before Sips grabbed it impatiently.

"Good lord, that was awful! You gotta hit him like you mean it, here, like this," the grey man instructed, pulling Xephos' arm back as if to wind it up, then using quite a bit of his strength to bring both of their open palms flying forward and give Turps a vicious smack on the ass. A pained whine cut through the thick air, and Xephos couldn't help but smirk, shaking the tingles out of his palm with satisfaction.

"There you go, it's all in the wrist," Sips beamed, following up with one more swift blow to get his point across.

Groaning miserably, Turps averted his gaze; having Xephos included and instructed on how to punish him was just too much, and his cock was rock hard beneath him now, throbbing with need. He rolled his hips, brushing himself against Sips' thigh for some stimulation, anything that would help relieve the pain in his backside, really, but it instead became an open invitation for insult. 

Biting his lip, Sips' fingers took an exploratory journey down between the toned man's inner thighs, investigating everything from the curve of his fine leg muscles to the tight pucker of his anus to his hanging ballsac, finally settling in to squeeze at the base of his prey's turgid shaft.

"You're not supposed to be enjoying this, Turps! For fuck's sake," Sips said loudly in a chiding tone, looking up to Xephos with a gleeful expression on his face.

"I'm not, I _swear_ ," came Turps' strangled reply, and some of the rage in Xephos' heart ebbed while watching his companion in such abject turmoil, a humiliated wretch in everyone's sight.

"Alright Sips, I'd say that's good enough, wouldn't you," Xephos sighed, crossing his arms, and smiling at the snort of derision that followed.

"You're lucky ol' Xephos here is a light touch," Sips whispered harshly to the trembling man in his lap, but he dragged Turps back across his thighs with a surprising amount of care considering his words, letting his employee slide off and sit, stunned, with his knees on the cold concrete floor. Sips ran a hand through Turps' short brown hair with loving fondness, patting him as he recovered from his punishment; a notorious chatterbox, Turps was oddly silent as he processed what had just transpired, the blush never leaving his cheeks and his cock never losing its stiffness through it all.

Tapping his toe, Xephos cocked a brow. "He still needs to show me he's sorry," he said frankly, his insistence on discipline bringing joy to the businessman's shriveled grey heart.

"Oh, absolutely," Sips agreed, gently turning the labourer's head upward to meet his gaze while he gave his command. "Turps, you're going to lick those boots clean for Xephos. Prove to him you're not totally useless."

Blinking blankly, Turps moved his head of his volition, first down to the ground in front of Xephos, then back up to Sips, showing no readable expression. "Come again?"

Sips rolled his eyes and grabbed the toned man by the jaw, forcing his cheeks together in a comical fashion. " _This_ ," he said as if speaking to a particularly dumb dog, "goes _here_ ," he finished, shoving Turps' face down and sending him flying forward to meet the toe of Xephos' boot with his nose, forcing him to cower on all fours below the unimpressed spaceman. Again Turps took a moment to process his situation, breathing slowly, until a familiar hand snuck in under his firm belly and grabbed his aching cock to urge him onward.

"Come on now, be a good boy," Sips said in a mocking tone, delighted by the small hiss of pleasure he heard while thumbing over the head of the other man's dick.

The heady scent of patent leather and dirt made its way up Turps' nose as he was kickstarted into obedience, his tongue lapping cautiously at the vamp of Xephos' smart calf-length boot. The physical act wasn't nearly as awful as he had expected, but with each grovelling lick at the spaceman's feet his shame grew exponentially; everyone has a low point, he came to reason, and his was apparently in licking space boots and being fondled like an animal. Why he was getting such a thrill from the fiery throbbing pain in his ass and his total submission to sadists, however, he did not want to dwell upon. He deftly lapped a clean, shiny trail along the contours of the black leather and hardly even noticed when Sips withdrew his hand to lean back and admire the scene unfolding before him, the businessman very much enjoying seeing his tall, thin playmate take on a more dominant role. 

With his arms on his hips, Xephos watched Turps' progress with smug satisfaction. It was a different sort of thrill than he was used to, being the one to demand obedience at any cost...or so he had considered himself, up until his gaze fell back over to Sips and he could feel the stocky man's predatory hunger encroaching upon him, realizing then he was as he had always been, a pawn. 

"You look good like that, you know," Sips rumbled, hands down his pants to give his own cock a slow, rhythmic stroke. "Real fuckin' good."

Flashing bright white teeth in a lopsided grin, Xephos felt a pang of desire at watching the other man pawing at his thick shaft, wanting to steal the pleasure from those hands for himself, to mount his demanding companion and feel the delightful ache of being roughly fucked, to ride him into oblivion. His boots were clean enough now, he decided quickly. 

"Alright, Turps," he said with a cough, his voice taking a second to find the right pitch, "that's enough. Go grab the bottle from Sips' desk and you can have a break."

The labourer tilted his head upward, giving Xephos a questioning look, but then shrugged, his back cracking as he was finally allowed to stand. The other two men chuckled while he toddled off to retrieve what he already knew was lube from having poked around the desk before this whole mess had begun, and he could feel the bright red hand- and ring-prints solidifying across his bare ass; being reminded of his punishment with each step was embarrassing enough without his companions laughing at him, and it made him scoot out of sight as fast as possible, across the ruined factory floor and up the stairs in a flash.

Soft words and happy moans greeted him as he returned from his chore, surprised to see Xephos shirtless with his pants down by his ankles. The two men paid him no mind as they reveled in the joy of each other's touch, with Xephos standing and Sips still sitting upon a ruined machine, holding the thinner man by the hips and kissing along the curve of his pelvis, purposely avoiding the erection before him to tease for as long as possible. His thumbs massaged sweet circles into his partner's bare skin as his lips plotted their course, though they stopped once Turps came into view; Xephos held his hand out anxiously for the bottle the labourer had brought, and it was handed over with a bashful smile, Turps not having expected playtime to be right here, right now. He stood awkwardly aside, watching the leaner man take care to reveal Sips' surprisingly large dick and slather it in lube before turning himself around. 

Clearly modesty was not on Xephos' mind as he nimbly lowered himself onto his partner's thick cock, a hissing gasp crossing his lips once penetrated and left to settle into Sips' lap, taking it up to the hilt without much fuss. His back arched against Sips' chest and he held on tightly to the businessman's thighs for fear of slipping, fingers pressing hard against the fabric covering them and letting out a little moan with the first roll of his hips. It felt so fucking good to be stretched and filled like this again, to be held in place by strong arms and have eager lips play at his skin, allowing him settle into position and fuck himself silly with his boss'-- no, _master's_ \-- waiting cock. Turps could watch in slack-jawed awe, for all he cared; nothing was going to ruin this moment.

And watch he did. Turps swallowed slowly, drinking in the look of absolute bliss upon Xephos' face, unable to peel his eyes away from the scene even if he had wanted to. The way his companion rolled his hips and slid up and down with pleasured whines and pants escaping him was so beautiful compared to his normally rigid demeanour, and Turps wanted nothing more in that moment than to contribute to Xephos' pleasure, to truly earn his forgiveness, remaining dignity be damned. Fingers twitching nervously, the labourer approached the duo and dropped to his knees obediently, sliding neatly in between Sips' and Xephos' parted thighs to place his hands on either side of the spaceman's pelvis.

"What--" was all Xephos could utter before a slick mouth and tongue enveloped him, causing a minor meltdown, and he bit his lip to hold in the majority of a very loud, very lewd moan.

At that, a little grin found its way onto Turps' lips for the first time in hours. Wanting to do a good job, his tongue lapped away at Xephos' cock with great dedication, the moist, inviting warmth of his mouth teasing at the head just enough to drive the spaceman wild, long fingers finding their way to the back of Turps' head and digging in with wanton lust. 

Xephos clamped his eyes shut, and with each forceful roll of his hips his muscles tightened further and further like coiling springs, the entirety of his body on fire with pleasure. A long, needy whine and sudden stilling of movement heralded his climax, and he bucked his hips a few times, his twitching cock against Turps' busy tongue with his seed eagerly swallowed. As he settled back down, puffing with exhaustion, Sips took matters into his own hands and gave a few final, forceful thrusts into his recovering partner, eliciting pleading moans of overstimulation, and providing just enough friction to push the stocky man right over the edge.

Smirking, Turps rested his head against one of Xephos' bare thighs as his companions stopped to catch their breath. Eventually Xephos found the energy to lift himself up off of the softening cock, to which Sips always gave a reluctant groan, and stepped away to go about reclothing himself, some vestige of his modesty now returning. Sips watched the final act of the show with a lazy, second-hand lust, and dropped his gaze down between his legs once there was nothing left to see, addressing Turps still on the floor.

"What," he asked tiredly, not sounding as if he truly cared. "You think you're gonna get a ride on the pony too, huh?"

" _No_ ," Xephos shot back before Turps could reply, "don't reward him, for god's sake. He hasn't earned that yet. And he did just blow up the factory, remember?" 

A noise of protest was uttered, but Turps knew it wasn't in his best interest to argue. He fixed his wide eyes on Sips and rubbed his goateed chin against the businessman's leg, a silent plea for relief that could hardly be ignored.

"Alright, fine, you've learned your lesson. Come up here," Sips said generously, patting his knee after zipping his pants back up.

Turps quickly took him up on his offer, ignoring the pain from his abused ass as well as the annoyed growl from Xephos a few feet away, snuggling in close to his broad, warm boss.

"I think you'll find I've been most humble and accepting of my punishment here today," he said proudly, however stopping his train of thought as a square grey finger was held up to his lips, shushing him.

"Don't ruin this for yourself," Sips warned.

"Right," Turps squeaked with a cheesy grin, dutifully shutting up.

With no foreplay or affection, Sips wrapped his hand around the length of the labourer's cock, thumb rubbing at the sensitive slit in its tip, and stroked quickly, mechanically, pumping him like a farmer pumps at a cow's teat, for efficiency. Love would have to be earned for a better reward, his movements told the man in his lap, earned and not simply given. 

Turps' breath hitched as the stroking pace increased and his hips bucked, mewling with pleasure, but he knew, without even needing to be told, that this gesture was merely to keep him from complaining and earning himself another round of discipline. It was a kindness, really; a small mercy, he told himself. The coils in his stomach tightened without much further stimulation and he came in Sips' large hand, which was then brought up and shoved into his face for a cleaning, which his tongue took care of automatically, lacing through thick grey fingers to do his boss proud. 

With a roll of his eyes, Xephos returned to Sips' side and gave Turps a friendly pat on the head, teasing along the rim of one of the recovering labourer's ears and sending a shiver down his spine.

"You're forgiven, but you're still a giant pain in the ass," the spaceman said, sighing dramatically.

That was good enough for Turps.


End file.
